


Untitled Apology-fic 2, or, Honey, I Blew Up the Kink-Meme

by Predatrix



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Predatrix/pseuds/Predatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second of my "fics outside my normal parameters" for a kink-meme prompt.</p>
<p>For a prompt involving: Childermass and Lascelles compete to give Drawlight a good (masochistic) time.</p>
<p>It ended up a bit h/c, but that's because nearly all of the POV was Lascelles, who (my version) is entirely cold-blooded and does not care about anyone, so you get to see Childermass looking after Drawlight. In fact what I was visualising is "Drawlight is indeed loving it, but ends up over-stimulated/rather heavily used and possibly in sub-space".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Apology-fic 2, or, Honey, I Blew Up the Kink-Meme

Childermass and Lascelles were divided by many things. In Lascelles’ opinion, they were divided by class, cleanliness, style and beauty, and the fact that only one of them had these things. In Childermass’s opinion, they were divided by fortune and brains; one had one and the other had the other.

Unfortunately, there was one thing they had in common.

Which was why they were dividing the services of Lascelles’ late whore, one Christopher Drawlight, between them. Although Lascelles had broken him to saddle a year or two ago he was by now very well used and had been handed around the more perverse end of the _ton_ like a spectacularly-expensive bottle of wine. Everyone who wanted had had at least a sip.

Drawlight was now, for some reason, dressed in a showy but thin dress—the proverbial bit of muslin on the proverbial ‘bit of muslin’, Lascelles thought. He was wearing lipstick, and his very fine eyes were enhanced, which they certainly need not be because those melting dark feminine eyes were the one womanly gift Nature had given him.

This evening, Drawlight had complained about being kept from the bed of the Duke of N——’s son, who was always a welcome visitor to his bed and his purse. Then he had loudly bemoaned the prospect of being used without remuneration, “really, Henry, you know it’s hardly worth the trouble if nobody thinks I’m worth the pay. You remember my debts.”

Then he had left off loudly bemoaning and set to loudly _moaning,_ probably because Childermass had bent him forward on the desk, shoved his skirts up, and started to slap his bare arse very soundly indeed. This was a fine and rosy display in the candlelight.

Childermass did not have it all his own way, because Lascelles then dragged Drawlight up off the desk (with all sorts of noises suggestive of complaint) and ripped that thin dress right down the front. Of course Lascelles wouldn’t even have tried if he hadn’t had a fair idea it was of poor enough quality cloth he could perform that trick: he wouldn’t make a fool of himself over _Drawlight._

“Little tart,” said Lascelles (without notable surprise), “you’ve rouged up your nipples.” He pulled Drawlight against him, and drew attention to one with a vicious pinch-and-twist.

Drawlight groaned very loudly, and said, “Oh, please, Henry!” He rubbed his buttocks back in Lascelles’ lap, and breathed very hard, while Lascelles served the other nipple the same way, and Drawlight made noises suggestive of incipient ecstasy. Lascelles could never tell how much of a performance Drawlight was putting on for effect: he usually started making noises early on in the course of proceedings, and went on until all parties had been satisfied. But he said, “He was more noisy when I did that,” just to imply that Childermass was less skilful with his part of the proceedings.

Childermass began to maul Drawlight’s prick with, Lascelles couldn’t help noticing, a rather dirty-nailed hand. How dare he soil an amenity that Lascelles was in the process of using!

Drawlight said, “Let me spend, I’ll do _anything!”_ He was quite still as he waited for whatever they would give him.

Lascelles said, “You’ll do anything in any case, Christopher; you’re known for it,” as Childermass let go and looked at the pair of them.

Childermass said, “Do you want the end with the mouth or the end that makes more sense?” 

Lascelles said, “He may serve me with his mouth,” and was glad that Drawlight was experienced enough not to bite if he was distracted. He’d seen Drawlight used that way before he risked inserting his person in the mouth of a man being buggered, because in Lascelles’ opinion it was worth knowing no particularly dangerous accidents were likely to happen.

Childermass said, “You want a good fucking, you pretty thing?” somewhat mockingly, to Drawlight, who wailed his agreement and stretched over the desk.

With a little clumsiness, they arranged themselves; Lascelles with his breeches open ready for Drawlight to service him with his mouth, Drawlight over the desk going, “ah, ah, _ah!”_ as Childermass started to fuck him.

Lascelles complained about the unequitable start of the arrangement until Childermass shoved Drawlight into position where he could get to Lascelles with his mouth. Drawlight began to suck him, wet and sloppy and thorough, although sounding as if he could barely catch his breath. Not that Lascelles cared about that.

Drawlight stopped gasping and started to moan around Lascelles’ prick. Although Lascelles had some suspicion that he might be trying to hasten the end rather than expressing his satisfaction, it was effective enough. “Oh, you _slut!_ he exclaimed loudly, and jammed himself as deep as he could get as he finished right down Drawlight’s throat.

Drawlight removed his mouth, gasping and struggling to breathe.

Childermass was still hammering away at Drawlight from behind; by the sound of it he wouldn’t last long. Like the coarse person he was, he was grunting heavily at his work, and Drawlight was giving a good impression of loving it. (Lascelles was enough of an egoist to find difficulty in believing that the rest of the orchestra were interested in their parts of the performance once the soloist had left the stage).

A few more thrusts and most impolite noises, and Childermass had finished. He eased out gently, quite as though Drawlight were a gentle maiden who required careful handling, and rolled Drawlight over.

To Lascelles’ mild surprise, Drawlight was erect, although he looked as though he’d about gone his limit with being roughly handled: he was in tears and had signs of bruising. This did not trouble Lascelles: Drawlight cried, and bruised, very easily, but the next day he’d be back to normal enough to be seen out, and after a week would look just as well as ever naked.

Childermass bent down without saying a word and began to fellate Drawlight gently, while Drawlight said, “oh, yes, no, _please!”_ and shuddered, and Childermass held him very gently by the hips.

Without making a sound (for once), Drawlight went very, very still, putting his hands into Childermass’s hair.

After a couple of minutes, Childermass drew off unhurriedly, swallowing. He kissed Drawlight on the corner of his mouth and said, “All right?”

Drawlight said, shakily, “I need to sleep.”

Lascelles said, “I don’t know what you think we should be able to do about that, Christopher; you’re the one who came in dressed as a cheap whore and ended up not even that.”

Childermass turned to Lascelles with a look of absolute and utter scorn which Lascelles’ brain self-protectively refused to process.

Then he picked up Drawlight in his arms and somehow…faded into the shadows. Lascelles, in surprise, tried to follow them to the door and down the corridor (because certainly people would be able to notice a servant with a half-naked armful of some inhabitant of a molly-house), but he saw nothing but shadows.

He determined to part Norrell from Childermass as soon as possible. If the pre-eminent English Magician had been teaching magic to his _mere servant,_ obviously things weren’t satisfactorily arranged.


End file.
